Thursday, October 1, 2015

NEW RELEASE DAY! Between Him and a Hard Place by Kelex

Today's the day!  The Wicked line is here and with it, my title Between Him and a Hard Place.  This story is the first in the Dead Ones series.

Dead Ones... how romantic.  Believe me, it's hot.  The stories are set after the zombie apocalypse.  Humans are a dying breed, which doesn't bode well for the vampires who feed off them.  So this creates a new, interesting dynamic.

For those of you who don't like horror or zombies -- trust me -- there isn't much horror in my story.  It's focused on Archer and Syn and the heat between them.

They survived catastrophe, but can they live on together?

Archer did things he didn’t know he was capable of doing to survive the zombie virus that brought down the world. When his traveling companion is murdered by dead ones, he knows his time has come. Seconds before he’s slaughtered, a combat vehicle crashes through the scene and a masked man saves the day—a man he feels inexplicably drawn to.

Only the man isn’t a man, but a vampire.

Syn is a tracker, sent out to find and protect the last of the humans and the precious blood in their veins. Archer isn’t like the others he’s found. He feels tied to the human in a way he can’t explain. The two come together explosively, both fighting the intense emotion they feel before running to escape their burning lust.

Can they find a way back to one another?


BUY HERE

Excerpt:

Archer heard an engine rev out of nowhere, and a huge vehicle ran through the crowd of dead ones, mowing them down with ease. The passenger door was flung open before him. A masked man stared at him, hiding who his potential savior was. Or if he could trust whomever was behind it.

“Get in!” a tinny voice cried out.

Without much more consideration, as the inside of that truck was better than the death surrounding him, he jumped in. The man stepped on the gas before Archer could barely even attempt to slam the door closed, not that he could’ve had he wanted to.

“Get the door shut and fast!”

“I’m trying,” Archer screamed, stabbing his hunting knife into the head of a dead one clinging to the door. As soon as he kicked that one off, he jammed his knife into another, slamming the door on another set of decaying fingers and slicing them off. They fell in his lap, still wiggling.

A dozen dead ones hung on to the hood of the truck, which was being spun from side to side, trying to fling the creatures off. Archer reached for a non-existent seatbelt and then held on for dear life.

“Hold on to the wheel,” the guy screamed, rolling down his window.

The driver lifted a pistol as Archer grabbed the huge wheel and leaned out. One by one, he got the dead ones between the eyes, and they fell under the moving vehicle. Bouncing as they rumbled over the bodies, Archer tried to keep the thing on the road. He wasn’t even sure what it was. It was something between a truck and a tank, with an Army vibe. The tech surrounding the wheel was anything but Army-issued, though. Whatever it was, he’d never seen anything like it, and was more than happy to have seen it when he did.

Finally, the driver dropped back into his seat, the dead ones gone from the hood. Just as he began to roll up his window, a hand reached in. Lightning quick, the guy sliced the hand off with a scary-looking blade, then proceeded to roll his window up.

Archer leaned back into his seat and stared at the road ahead, stunned as hell he’d made it out alive. His heart continued to thump hard in his chest as he stared at the masked driver.

“Syn,” the guy said with that robotic-sounding voice. He held out his gloved hand.

Archer really took in the guy’s appearance for the first time. He wore some weird gas mask-like thing with goggles. Here it was, the middle of the summer, and he was covered from head to toe in black leather, from his neck to his gloved fingers and shitkickers.

“Syn’s short for Synclair,” the guy said again, still offering his hand. “As in my name. You’ve got one, right?”

“Archer,” he answered, finally taking the extended hand. “I can’t thank you enough,” he added as he shook it.

“No problem. I’ve been following you for weeks,” the masked man said, returning his hand to the wheel and looking ahead. “I’ve been just a day or so behind you for the last week. Good thing I caught up when I did.”

Archer frowned, his hackles rising. “Why were you following me?”

“I find humans to take to the Southern Citadel.”

The Southern Citadel? “Wait, what?”

“You haven’t heard of the Citadels?” he asked, glancing over at Archer.

Archer shook his head.

“There are three human cities. They’re walled and protected and already teeming with people. It’s my job to help find the last of the humans to take there so some sort of civilization can start again.”

Human cities? Walled and protected? It sounded too good to be true. And he’d learned anything that sounded too good to be true likely was. Even with his doubt, only one question truly came to mind. “You guys got food and water there?”

The masked man chuckled. “All you could ever want.”

“Then what are we waiting on?” Archer knew he might be walking into a trap, but the promise of hot food and a hot shower was too good to ignore. He was running on empty. He needed to regroup.

He glanced at the man driving, again wondering about the weird get-up, but weird was now the norm in their fucked up world.
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